


Close

by Wahmenitu



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:30:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wahmenitu/pseuds/Wahmenitu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am close. So close to winning these Games. But I can't do it. Not with the opponents I have. Not with the strategy I've been using."</p><p>(Major character death being Foxface.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close

I'm close. So close. There are only four of us left, and I am so close to winning. To going home. Seeing my family again. But I know this is as far as I go. Cato is too strong. Katniss and Peeta too safe, united as they are. Yes, of course I've bothered to learn their names. I know all of their names. _Thresh, Rue, Clove, Glimmer_... they are all dead, and I am still alive.

The only way I would win would be if I outlasted them all, but I know this is not an option. Katniss and Peeta have too many people willing to sponsor them, while I have none. Cato will hunt me down. Eventually, he will find me, and he will kill me. I have no real weapons. Only a few knives, that have none of the reach of Cato's sword or the range of Katniss' arrows. But I am afraid to die.

I am afraid of the pain, afraid of how long it will take.

How?

How can I ensure a quick death? Painless? How?

I am following Peeta as he forages when I see the berries left on the mat. Waiting until he's gone, I approach cautiously for a better look, but my mind has already confirmed it.

I know these berries. They are called different things different places. Nightlock, Mors Berries... the list goes on. Maybe they will think I slipped up. Made a mistake. That in my hunger, I'd forgotten the teachings in the Capitol. But I choose this.

This is preferable. Preferable to bleeding out, to dying with an arrow in my throat or heart. At least my body will remain unflawed. I will look pretty, coming home in a box.

I take a few nibbles of the cheese, because why would I take the berries and not any of that. Five should do it. I trek away from the mat, and lower myself to the ground, settling in some soft grass. This is a nice place to die, I think.

With shaking hands, I raise the berries to my mouth. They pass my lips. I chew, swallow, and then I know no more.


End file.
